"Moments in Time":
"Once Again (Second Part)"
Setting: KHR, 5YL!
Pairing: G02, 02G; minor 5927
Rating: T
Summary: In which Giotto and G. are reborn, and manage to find themselves once again, all thanks to one brunette named Tsunayoshi.
Word Count: 8,361 words (part two); 16,244 (total)
Genre: Romance/Family
Point of View: Third-person
Warnings: Homosexual relationships, swearing, and possible OOC. Italics are flashbacks, thoughts, or stressed words.
Further Notes: Part two is here. Its from G.'s point of view this time. Hurray!
Edit: Noticed some mistakes and fixed 'em.
G. had always felt he was cursed and unlucky. When he was three, his parents died when a flash flood took out their house in Italy and drowned them. He managed to survive, and was sent to live in an orphanage for two years. The kids never talked to him, and often shunned him. Was it his red hair? His red eyes? He could never tell. They yelled at him, threw rocks at him, and called him a child of misfortune. So eventually, he stopped trying. He stopped trying to fit in with the kids who hated him for no reason. Why bother, right?
At age ten, he was carted off to Japan when he was told he had relatives there. In the end, it was the same. They hardly talked to him, but made sure he was well fed and properly supplied with clothes and supplies for school. He couldn't tell if they actually cared, or if they were worried that if they didn't take care of him, he would curse them or something. In school he made friends easy enough, because none seemed to care about his hair or eye color. He wasn't particularly close with them, but he could make do with not being shunned and made fun of. When he was thirteen, he met Asari Ugetsu, a teen older than him by five years, yet treated him like they were close friends; G. did think he was an idiot at times though.
Finally, at age sixteen, he joined the archery club, and was finally happy that he had a place to call home.
"G.-kun, can you stay later?" G. turned to the teacher, and nodded slowly. He heaved a small sigh. The archery club only had the teacher, him (the only first year), three second years, and two third years. "Sorry, but we don't have enough people to clean everything up."
"It's fine, don't worry about it," He reassured with a small shake of the head. He stopped to retie his hair back, and then set off to help clean up. He was supposed to meet up with Asari at the man's ramen shop, but he could just show a little later. He did send a quick text to let the other know, however. Cracking his neck, he went off to help the others.
"G., I think you should enter some competitions or something," One of the third years, Shimon Cozart he believed, smiled. "You're naturally talented."
"I think I'll pass, thanks," G. sighed, changing out of his clothes and pulling his school uniform back on, "I'd rather not get called out on being a foreigner."
"C'mon, I'm a foreigner too," Cozart laughed, "and we redheads have to stick together!"
"Right, right, I'm sure," G. sent him an annoyed look when an arm was slung over his shoulder.
"C'mon, just enter one with me? Target archery isn't all that different from what we do here."
"No," G. said firmly, and ignored the fake pout sent his way. "Good night, senpai."
The redhead's walk to the ramen shop wasn't too far, but he still wished he had a bike or something. Shaking his head, he entered the ramen shop, spotting Asari behind the counter immediately.
"Hey G.," Asari greeted with a smile. He nodded, and walked around the counter; he picked an apron off a hook and tied the strings back with practiced ease. "Three deliveries are waiting, all on the same route. I just finished their orders so please head out." G. nodded again, taking the order slips and carefully packing the ramen into the carrying case.
"I'll be back." G. waved shortly and headed out.
All in all, he felt he had a pretty simple life with a daily routine.
Except, at times, it wasn't all that simple. Every now and again, he had these weird day dreams in his head. They featured people he didn't even know, from a green-haired kid to a blond (there weren't even any blonds in his school) and other times it had Asari and even Cozart. It bugged him, especially when he heard voices in his head from something someone said. He didn't want to be considered insane, and sent off to a mental asylum, so he just kept it to himself. No use worrying the idiots he's friends with, right? The relatives he was stuck with would probably shy away from him even more. He had just finally been able to have decent conversations with them at dinner and he didn't want to ruin it. Not after all his hard work.
He frowned to himself, tuning out his teachers as a headache ruined his concentration. He put his head down, trying to think about something else. It was always with these headaches came the voices and weird dreams.
"...Just how long have you liked me?"
"A very long time."
"Same here."
Again with that love thing. Why was it typically a love thing? Was it because he was so lonely and abandoned as a child? Was he really that deprived? It drove the redhead insane, making him wish for it all to stop. Why of all things did he have to deal with voices in his head? Hadn't he suffered enough.
"...-kun, would you please solve the problem?" His teacher's voice made him look back up.
"Alright," He nodded, ignoring the few giggles in the class because he was caught not paying attention. He stepped up to the board, and stared at the problem for three seconds. Without even writing anything he said, "the variable 'x' equals three and the variable 'y' equals five."
"...Right, you may sit," the teacher sighed, and she shooed him back to his seat. Putting his head back down, he waited for the headache to subside.
An hour later, the bell rang to signal lunch, and he lifted his head to see Cozart looking at him worriedly.
"Are you okay?"
"Are you okay?"
"...'M fine. Just tired."
"I'm just tired," G. waved the other redhead off. "Wanna head to the roof?"
"Sure," Cozart smiled and the two easily made it to their destination. Cozart passed him melon bread from the cafeteria and dug into his own. G. nearly swallowed his whole, and pulled out a cigarette. He lit it up, taking a small drag.
"That's bad for your health. You really should quit."
"Hey, you should quit smoking already! Its bad for your health!"
"No thanks." G. frowned. Three times already and it was only half way through the day.
"The next thing I know, you'll probably have a tattoo on your face or something."
"G., you got a tattoo? It looks cool! It suits you!"
"Ha..." He frowned further. Now it was four. It was constantly the same one voice when it came to this love thing, but occasionally there were other voices too, disregarding his own. "So any luck finding a partner for you to do an archery competition with?"
"No," Cozart sighed, "none of the second years are good enough. The other third year is injured too, remember?"
"Right, so I'm assuming you still want me to do it."
"Yea," The older redhead sent him patented puppy eyes, and G. couldn't help but sigh,
"I'll think about it."
G. returned to Asari's shop, just finishing his delivery. He sat on a stool behind the counter, watching the various customers converse and eat. Asari chatted with an older male, older than Asari. They talked about politics or something, but he wasn't really paying any attention. He surveyed the customers again, finding them interesting enough to keep his attention instead. It wasn't often he had a break, so he took his time relishing it.
"G., do you want something to eat?" Asari asked, gaining his focus.
"Eh, sure. Surprise me," The redhead shrugged. He hadn't eaten anything since lunch. "I'll be outside for a few minutes."
"I'll call you when its done." Stepping out, G. lit up a cigarette. He sighed, willing an oncoming headache away. He wasn't in the mood for his reoccurring insanity. He was lucky he didn't have any more voices during the rest of school. He shook his head, thinking back to Cozart's plea with him for the competition.
"Well, I guess it couldn't hurt," He sighed to himself, putting out the cancer stick when he heard Asari call for him. He'd rather do the competition than deal with Cozart's whining anyway.
The competition three weeks later wasn't hard, and he took first while Cozart took second. The older redhead was ecstatic over this, and dragged the younger redhead to Asari's shop to celebrate.
"Asari, Asari!" Cozart called happily when they entered. "G. took first place and I took second!"
"Oh, congratulations to you both," The raven smiled.
"Thanks!" Cozart grinned and released G., allowing him to sit at the counter. Cozart took a seat next to him. "You should've seen some of his shots; they were amazing."
"Eh, really?"
"Yeah, the commentators were really impressed with his form."
"Nice shot, G.! You're form is really elegant, isn't it?"
"If you say so..."
G. winced internally. God forbid he could go a day without voices harassing him. He rubbed his temples.
"You alright, G.?" Asari asked.
"I'm fine," He grumbled, "I'm exhausted. Senpai hasn't stopped talking all day."
"Hey, I resent that!" Cozart gasped, and playfully shoved him. He lightly shoved him back. As the two older males continued to talk about the competition, G. focused on removing the headache. Eventually, Asari placed a bowl of ramen in front of him, saying it was on the house, and G. ate, forgetting about the headache completely.
G. really wanted to just bash his head into a wall at times. No, not because of Cozart's idiocy, or Asari's laid back character. It was because some days he really couldn't stand the headaches the voices and dreams gave him. He couldn't even remember when they began. He growled to himself, holding his head in obvious pain. Thankfully, he was alone at home. He sneezed, and briefly wondered if he was getting sick too. He ignored the foreboding thought and headed to his bed.
"You're staying? Don't you have paperwork to do?"
"It can wait a day; you're more important."
G. frowned. No one had ever helped him when he felt terrible, not even Cozart or Asari. Not that he would tell them though. Yet this voice cared. The stupid, imaginary, sensual voice cared for him in ways that drove him insane.
He hated his life.
"G., you got a tattoo?" A year later, seventeen year old and second year G. arrived at Asari's ramen shop like he didn't have ink put in his skin. It crept up his neck and onto his face, even going up his cheek and around his right eye. He had just started winter break, so he figured he could do it while the weather was cool and he always wanted a tattoo (and maybe the voice in his head from the one time might have influenced the decision, just like something about his name). Cozart had teased him about getting a tattoo, but the older redhead didn't honestly think he'd do it. Well, that's what he got for being stupid. Cozart, who had graduated and began college, had gaped for at least five minutes before sputtering something incoherent. He eventually found his words and said 'wow.'
Fucking genius, G. had thought. He turned his attention back to Asari, "Yeah, I did. If it bothers your work's image, I can find a job elsewhere."
"No, no, its fine," Asari smiled, "I don't mind at all. The tattoo certainly seems to fit your image."
"Hm.." G. hummed, and took the orders for delivery. "I'll be back soon."
"Have a safe trip!" Asari waved and went back to his customers. Along the way, G. passed by a few too many people who stared at him oddly. He expected it, but he didn't really want to deal with all the outright comments he could hear. Things like "he looks like a delinquent" or "stay away from him. he's probably dangerous" were the most common. A few kids stared in awe (and possible fear), but he paid them no mind. He silently made his deliveries, received the pay for the orders, and returned to Asari's shop without a second thought.
"Back," The redhead sighed, placing the delivery box onto the floor behind the counter. He glanced around the shop, noting there weren't too many customers. None of them were paying attention to him. They were regulars and knew what he was like, so they probably could care less about the tattoo. He did spot Cozart talking to Asari as he slurped up a bowl of ramen though.
"Welcome back. Want something to eat?" Asari asked, glancing his way.
"No thanks. Not hungry," He shook his head.
"Yo, G.!" Cozart waved and he sighed, nodding back. "How's the archery club?"
"Small. We have two first years this year. Six people total." G. frowned slightly, joining his fellow redhead. "I'm apparently captain."
"Eh? What about the third years?" Cozart blinked.
"None of them fit the leadership type, so its been passed to me. They're all cool with it, and they listen to my instructions like the first years do, so I suppose its fine."
"Must be tough." Asari piped up, "when I was in kendo in high school, they suddenly made me captain during my second year when all the third years quit."
"You did kendo, Asari?" The elder redhead tilted his curiously.
"During middle school and high school. I used to play the flute for the music club too until I was made captain. I had to focus on kendo, so I quit music."
"That's quite mature of you," G. snorted, "considering you're an airhead through and through."
"How rude G.," Asari laughed.
"Shut it, flute freak."
"Tch." G. scowled. Stupid voices.
"If you pick apart that sentence, there's a compliment in it, Asari. He thinks you're mature," Cozart chuckled.
"Oh," Asari raised an eyebrow, "thank you, G."
"Hm," The redhead snorted. The other two laughed, leaving G. to his thoughts and crazy voices.
Half a month later, the redhead collapsed during archery practice. A weird, sudden onslaught of voices and dreams left him dizzy and light-headed and he eventually passed out with his head feeling like it would split open. He was taken to a hospital, and kept his weird voices to himself when the doctors asked if he had any idea what could have happened. They ended up attributing it to stress and lack of sleep (which, he admittedly did not sleep much because the dreams left him feeling odd and strangely nostalgic). They watched him for a week, before letting him go when he was properly rested and more relaxed than before. Oddly, his voices did not harass him at all, as if they wanted to give him a break, or had to rest themselves from the vicious attack on his mindset.
G. sighed, running a hand through his hair as he stepped back into Asari's shop after the seven days. He didn't see many customers, except for a male in a suit who's face was hidden by silver locks and the usual regulars. Must be here for business, G. thought to himself.
"Yo, Asari," G. greeted when the raven turned around from his conversation with the silverette.
"G., you were released?" Asari looked surprised.
"Yeah, they said to make sure I get at least eight hours of sleep from now on, and if I ever collapsed again to go back or something," The redhead shrugged and made his way behind the counter. The strange silver-haired man glanced at him, and he felt like he was almost staring into a mirror. A strange, slightly older tattoo-less silver-haired green-eyed mirror in a suit. He gave the stranger a slight nod in greeting, receiving a small one in return, and so he turned away to grab his apron.
"G., did you even listen to the doctors?" Asari sighed, exasperated.
"Yes," He lied without missing a beat. "Any deliveries?"
"None at the moment," The elder smiled slightly, and turned back to the stranger, "See, I said you looked like a friend of mine."
"So it would seem," The stranger smirked, eating the ramen without even making a mess. "How odd."
"You're not related to me or anything, are you?" G. couldn't help but ask, sending the man a quizzical stare.
"I would think not. I don't have many relatives," The stranger shrugged in a noncommittal fashion and quickly finished up the rest of the meal. "Thank you for the meal, Asari-san. Its been a while since I've eaten Japanese cuisine and it was delicious."
"You're welcome. Thank you for the compliment," Asari smiled politely, taking the money from the other.
"You travel a lot or something?" questioned the redhead teen. The stranger smiled, amused about something,
"You could say that, yes." The two watched him go, and G. felt like there was something weird about the man.
Five days later, G.'s voices started acting up again; he expected them eventually. It was like they were trying to tell him something, but all he could understand was the several distinct voices talking about something he didn't quite get. It was basically back to normal for him, considering they hadn't tried anything like overloading his teenage mind. Maybe his insanity learned he had limits; he had to admit he was crazy when he personified his insanity. Well whatever. The headaches hadn't been as bad for the day anyway, and there were only a few. Hurray for him, he supposed.
It was a slow day at Asari's shop, and the voices he just gained back today were currently leaving him alone. He sat at the counter, fiddling with an unlit cigarette in his hand, attempting to quell his urge to smoke. Asari would kill him if he did in the place, forcing him to often smoke down the street so the scent wouldn't carry. He got up, just about to go ahead and smoke when the raven stopped him.
"G., I have a few orders I need you to deliver."
"Alright," The redhead sighed, and placed the nicotine stick back into its carton, and pocketed it. He waited for the elder to be done, and then grabbed the carrying case from its spot. Carefully, he loaded the bowls and closed the case and carried it at his side.
"G., have a good trip, and be careful!" Asari waved. He nearly sighed. The other was a little more worrisome since he collapsed. He knew the other meant well, but still...
"Yeah, yeah, I got it, Asari," G. replied halfheartedly and stepped out the door. Feeling a stare directed towards him and hearing a deep breath being taken, he turned his head and made eye contact with a blond. The kid was short, his blond hair spiking in different directions and his slightly orange eyes gazing straight at him. G. watched in slight interest when the kid jumped, and looked confused for a moment when the kid looked relieved and...was that regret? Frowning slight, and staring curiously, he asked,
"You need something?" The kid fidgeted for a moment, his face slightly pink.
"Ah, no," he managed to say, "your tattoo...I like it." At the mention of the ink, he couldn't help but bring his free hand to it.
"Eh?" He blinked.
"-It suits you!"
Ah, the tattoo voice again. He hadn't heard that in a while. Ignoring the dull throbbing of his oncoming headache, he said, "Thanks kid. Not many people aren't intimidated by it."
"Y-you're welcome," The kid stuttered, "I'm Giotto."
"I'm Giotto, and this is my beloved, G."
What in the hell? The throb increased, and G. blatantly ignored it. He didn't want to freak the kid out.
"Oh foreigner?" He could relate to that, "Same here. I'm G., kid. Nice to meet you."
"Yea, you too," Giotto smiled brightly, "but don't call me a kid! I'm fifteen."
G. couldn't help but smirk, "Still the height of a kid. Don't worry, you'll grow. I hit my growth spurt when I was your age two years ago."
"So you're a kid too." Well, seventeen was still considered a minor he supposed.
"I suppose so," He acquiesced, and gave the blond a nod. "See you around, kid." He turned to walk away, barely taking his first step.
"Ah, wait!" He glanced back, seeing the kid struggle with something before saying, "do...do you mind if I come with you?"
Odd, the redhead couldn't help but think. He just met the kid and he wanted to tag along? G. looked at the blond's face, as if he was desperate for something. He mentally sighed. What's the harm anyway?
"Eh," He said, "I don't see why not."
"Thanks," Giotto smiled and caught up with him. He typed something into a phone before returning his attention to him. "How long have you lived in Japan?"
"Since I was ten," G. shrugged, "I was sent here to live with some relatives." Best not tell the whole story, he figured, or he'd frighten the kid.
"Do you like it here?"
"It's alright. A few people are idiots" -namely Cozart and Asari- "but idiots are everywhere. The town is nice enough to foreigners though. Its not hard to fit in. Where are you from?"
"Italy," Giotto answered and ran a hand through his hair, "Its nice. I didn't have a family for a while, but I was taken in a little over a year ago. They're nice people."
"Hmm...I'm from Italy too," The redhead hummed, thinking back to his wonderful days in the country and letting the silence consume them. Once he finished his deliveries, he resumed their conversation. He first brought up sports, talking about various ones. He mentioned his captaincy of the archery club and Giotto had talked about his self defense martial arts. They both talked about food, agreeing that Italian cuisine was good, but G. liked Japanese food too, and the blond admitted he only tried it a few times when his family cooked it. Before the redhead knew it, they were back in front of the shop. He didn't realize time flew, and almost regretted the walk being short. He felt oddly comfortable with the younger teen. He silently watched as Giotto checked the time.
"Good night, G.," the blond smiled, "It was nice talking to you." Why was the kid's smile forced, if not sad? Was he leaving?
"You too kid," He half-smiled and said in an attempt to find out (and because he did enjoy the kid's presence), "Next time, come inside and I'll treat you."
"If I can come to Japan again, I certainly will," the brief pause let G. think ah, I knew it, "this was just to be a short trip for my family's work. I go back tonight to Italy."
"Eh, really now," He frowned slightly and honestly stated, "if your ever around here again, come back alright? You seem like a good kid."
"Thanks...goodbye." That sounded like a 'goodbye forever' to the redhead. Confused and lost, he watched the blond until he turned a corner. He almost felt like chasing the boy, when the voices pounded into his head. His head painfully throbbed and he dropped the carrying case in favor of grabbing his red locks tightly. Eyes widened, he felt the voices become distinct, clear...familiar.
"G., I need your help with something."
"You're always easy to talk to, G., thanks."
"G., you're injured!"
"G., I love you."
"I'm sorry, G., but you can't. Goodbye G.; I'll love you till the end of time itself..."
"Giotto..." G. managed to whisper, and then everything became black.
The next time he woke up he was back in the hospital. Asari and Cozart were at his bedside, fast asleep in chairs. He groaned, raising a hand to his forehead. Those voices weren't just him being crazy...they were memories of a lifetime ago. A lifetime with him as the right hand man of the vigilante group Vongola along with several others, including the sleeping raven. Cozart was the first leader of the Shimon family, a close friend to him and Vongola Primo.
Primo...Primo was Giotto. Damn it, he squeezed his eyes shut as he recalled everything again, but no headaches this time. His last memory with Giotto was when the blond left him to go to Japan. He felt devastated once more thinking of the incident, and pushed away the forming tears. He just saw Giotto...it was okay. The blond had gone out of his way to see him regardless of the fact he didn't remember.
But he did now...So what was he to do? He wanted to find Giotto, and knew he had to be in Italy. He had to find exactly where, and then he had to save money for airfare. He'd have to have extra for lodgings and food too. Shit, he definitely wouldn't be able to go anytime soon. Not with school and his part-time job with Asari. He wondered if there were colleges in Italy that did abroad studying. He wondered if he could wait that long.
"G., you're awake?" The redhead turned his head, seeing Asari just waking up. "Thank goodness, you're okay. You've been out for an entire day and a half."
"Sorry for worrying you," He murmured, flushing slightly in embarrassment.
"I only worry because I care," Asari sighed and added, "if there's something bothering you, you can speak up, you know? Cozart-kun and I are your friends for a reason."
"I know..." He frowned, knowing this was one thing he couldn't share. "I'm sorry. I'm not used to sharing things."
"You'll get used to it," Cozart spoke, finally awake. "How are you feeling?"
"Tired...just tired," He sighed to himself.
"I'll get the doctor," Asari smiled to the younger redhead and then left the room. G. sat up, fully intent on thinking about Giotto.
"You..." Cozart looked at him seriously, "are you sure you're okay?"
"I'm just...a little stressed I guess."
"Ah, must be tough being captain of the archery club," The elder smiled, "I know, I've been there."
"Yeah," G. nodded, smiling tiredly. He questioned if either Cozart or Asari remembered, but it didn't look like it. Maybe not everyone could remember? He supposed it would be odd for everyone to know their past lives. It'd probably be creepy. During the silence, he thought back to Italy. Giotto had said something about a family taking him in that seemed nice. Maybe it was the current Vongola generation? It sounded like a long shot though, because why would a mafia family take in a kid they didn't know? Or did Vongola finally head back to a vigilante group?
He had to put his thoughts on the back burner when Asari finally returned with the doctor by his side. He had to convince the doctor he was just fine and that required all of his bullshitting skills (especially since this was the second time he collapsed).
When G. finally graduated from high school at age eighteen a year later, he finally had saved enough money for a trip to Italy two months after that. He had put in extra hours at Asari's shop, and took on small odd jobs here and there. Never once did Giotto ever return, but he was only half expecting him to anyway. He briefly told Asari and Cozart about his wish to travel to Italy (though the reason he gave was along the lines of seeing his old hometown) so they helped him out despite his protests. Asari payed him extra and played them off as 'bonuses' (somehow he came up with the most ridiculous reasons for them too) and Cozart showed him places where small one-time jobs could be found. He was thankful to both of them.
He managed to get his passport within a few weeks since he got the money for the trip, and soon after purchased his ticket to Italy. Both for one there and the return trip back. He couldn't just up and leave his life in Japan, so he gave himself a week's worth of time to spend in Italy, find Giotto, and then reconcile with him. Anything after that could happen when it happened. His flight was to the city Vongola was rumored to reside in (and where the headquarters from his time was supposed to be), and he hopefully got it right. He didn't have too much extra money to spend on traveling to other cities.
"G., take care okay?" Asari smiled, "do you have everything?"
"Yeah, I will, Asari," He lopsidedly smiled back, "I do. Try not to let Cozart burn down your shop."
"I'm only making deliveries in your place! Its not that hard," Cozart protested, flushing in embarrassment. "You better buy me a souvenir!"
"If I feel like it," G. snorted and added in Italian, "thanks for everything."
"Eh? What was that?" Asari blinked.
"I said I better still have a job when I get back."
"You're always welcome back," The raven laughed.
"Have a safe flight," Cozart chimed and Asari echoed the statement.
"Yeah, yeah," G. turned and adjusted the strap of his backpack, "See you." He didn't bother looking back, and went through the security check with only one odd look from a guard staring at his tattoo. By the time his flight was called, G. was ready to meet up with the blond again. The plane took off, and G. smirked,
"I'm coming for you, Giotto."
One flight and three hours later, G. found himself checking into a cheap hotel. He was exhausted from the eleven hour flight, not to mention the seven hour time difference. His flight from Japan had been at four in the afternoon, so it would have been about three in the morning if he had landed back in Japan, but the seven hour time difference currently made it seven at night in Italy. He hated jet lag and time and flying. Yeah, fuck eleven hour flights.
Figuring he wouldn't find anything this late anyway, he decided to crash for the night and start his search tomorrow. He dreamed of him and Giotto during their previous life together. He couldn't wait to find Giotto again, tell him how much he loved him, and just be with him. His love ran deeper than the Mariana Trench in the Pacific Ocean and he proudly could admit to himself, stupid analogy and all.
Nine in the morning of the next day (a beautiful fourteen hour sleep), G. set out on the streets, keeping his belongings with him. It was only a backpack anyway, so it wasn't a big deal. He got a few stares as he strolled down the streets in jeans, black sneakers, gray singlet and black blazer, but it was more directed to the tattoo than anything else, considering he wasn't technically a foreigner. He stopped at a small cafe for breakfast, ordering the cheapest food and drink and watching the streets of the city from his outside table. The light breeze and clear sky made it a beautiful day, he noted to himself and smiled over the brim of his coffee cup. The place was as gorgeous as he remembered, despite the bad memories. He was thankful he still remembered Italian because it would have probably made things ten times more difficult.
"Now then, where to start..." He murmured to himself, heading down the street with an unlit cigarette in his mouth. He supposed he could ask a few people if they ever saw a blond kid named Giotto, but then he figured he might look suspicious. Modern times were full of paranoia, and he didn't want to spend his valuable time in Italy in a prison cell. He smacked his forehead with his palm. Why didn't he come up with any ways to do this when he was in Japan?
Idiot, he berated himself. Perhaps he could look for where Vongola was stationed? If they still used the old headquarters, which was his only hope at this point, then he could try to find it. Though a century's worth of renovation may make it hard to locate.
"It's a start," He frowned to himself, making his way down various streets. He took note of the various people along the way; he noticed that they all seemed happy and laid back, which seemed strange considering Vongola was rumored (and probably) to be stationed by the city. What if Vongola was back to being a vigilante group after all? G. could remember bits and pieces of being a spirit inside the storm ring, and he recalled how the second generation had turned the family into a darker and colder mafia group. If the current head of Vongola had succeeded in bringing the family back into its roots, then these people had no reason to worry. Unless they were mafia, he figured, because they would fear such a family.
Sighing, G. continued on his way.
Damn, he irritably thought. Of all things, he had to be cornered by some random group of teens holding crowbars and knives. He wasn't even here that long and he was being mugged. One of the kids held a knife in his direction, a sneer on the kid's face. The redhead scowled in return.
"What?" He growled, and he took satisfaction when some of the kids jumped.
"Your belongings. Give them to us." The leader of the teens ordered, pressing the knife to his throat.
"No."
"What?" The teen blinked, probably surprised.
"I said no, idiot," G. snorted. "Get your hearing checked will you?"
"Don't make us hurt you, man," The teen grinned evilly, "Just hand over your stuff."
"You just don't take no for an answer do you?" G. sighed, and in an instant, flipped the kid so he was face down on the floor and the knife was scattered across the alleyway. "You have ten seconds to disappear." The rest of the teens stared in shock when he began counting down and cracking his knuckles. He watched them run off with their leader in tow. "Jeez, idiots these days," He sighed to himself.
"Gah!" He turned back, watching the same teens get thrown into a wall. A raven-haired Asian male, older than him by the looks of it, stepped into view, silver tonfas gleaming ominously.
"For disturbing the peace, I will bite you to death," The Asian attacked the teens, leaving them bruised and bloody within seconds. He looked towards the redhead.
"Just self defense," G. raised his hands in a placating manner, and watched the Asian male nod and walk off. "...I wonder if he's the reason that everyone is at peace."
G. scratched the back of his head. He wondered how he went from a nice easy morning to nearly being mugged in an alleyway to lost. He honestly had no fucking idea where he was just from using his instinct on trying to find his way back to Vongola headquarters. It was already four in the afternoon and he didn't want to get lost at night, when he'd have no one to ask for directions. He gave up, asked for directions to his hotel, and backtracked there for the night. Day One was a failure.
Day Two was hardly an improvement. He wanted to bash his head into one of the beautifully structured walls of Italy's fine architecture. He found a store at one point and went ahead and finally bought a map, deciding his instincts were no longer cooperating. He spent his lunch at a small eatery and looked over the map, locating the spot where the headquarters were supposed to be, a forested area. By the time he'd get there, it'd be closer to sunset, but he figured he could wing it and sleep in a tree if anything. He's done it before and he won't hesitate doing it again.
Leaving the eatery, G. headed off for the forest. Along the way he talked briefly with several people, just to learn that their city felt quite protected right now due to an Asian man enforcing the peace. He wasn't always around, but it still made a difference. There were rumors he was a part of Vongola, but every person he spoke to had altered the facts slightly. Some said he was the head himself, others said he was a lone avenger, and one person said he was a superhero. G. couldn't help but snort indignantly when he walked away.
Finally, G. found himself stopping when he heard a few voices. One of those voices had to be...
"Everyone needs fresh air, Gokudera."
"That's what windows are for."
A small laugh, "Hayato, don't be stubborn."
G. turned a corner at a faster speed, stopping when he saw him. A brunette, a silver haired man, and him. Giotto walked between the two, laughing as the silverette scowled and the brunette smiled. He swallowed, eyes widened. He opened his mouth to speak, unable to find the words he wanted right away. He settled for the best after staring for a good half minute. He knew exactly what to say.
"Giotto." The blond in question stopped, whipping his head around to find the source of the voice. G. stared, when the other finally made eye contact, eyes widening and mouth agape.
"G...?" Giotto questioned, taking half a step forward. "What are you doing in Italy?"
"I came to see you," He spoke, "I need you to answer a question for me."
"A question?" The blond blinked, confused. What question could possibly be worth a long flight to Italy?
"A long time ago," G. smiled softly, "you told me you would love me until the end of time itself." Giotto's eyes widened further. "Is it still true?" Giotto stared for what seemed like hours, tears forming in his bright eyes.
"Of course I do!" He yelled, running to the redhead and barreling straight into him. Giotto hugged him tightly and G. closed his eyes, preventing his tears from falling, and returned the gesture lovingly. He smiled.
"The feeling is still mutual then."
G. had been feeling ecstatic when Giotto brought him back to Vongola Headquarters, which was right where he thought it was. He met both Tsunayoshi, the brunette, and Hayato, the silverette he came to realize as the man he once met in Asari's shop. The four of them had situated themselves in one of multiple living rooms, but Tsuna had said that this one in particular was for the guardians only.
"G., when exactly did you regain your memories?" Giotto asked, leaning against the redhead on the couch.
"Right after you left. For a long time I had these voices in my head that were my memories, but I thought I was insane until they all came back." G. quietly explained, holding the blond's smaller hand. "And you?"
"I used to have these dreams when I was a kid, but they went away after a while. Then when Tsuna and Gokudera took me in, I kept having deja vu and I remembered everything," Giotto smiled, squeezing the other's hand. "Without Tsuna, I probably wouldn't have ever remembered."
"Ah, I'm not that great," Tsuna flushed ("But the Tenth is always great!" Hayato interjected), and waved his hands frantically, "I'm sure you would have remembered some day."
"Well you helped," Giotto laughed. "Gokudera, too. He's the one that found you, after all, G."
"Tch," Hayato turned his head away, flushing ever so slightly.
"I suppose thanks are in order then," G. nodded and thanked them, only earning gestures to disregard the statement of appreciation.
"Well, the important thing is that you found each other again," Tsuna smiled. "Ah, I do hope you'll stay with us for the duration of your visit to Italy."
"I'd have to check out of the hotel I'm in."
"No problem, just give us the name and we'll handle it," Tsuna said and G. complied. "Right, we'll get on that and see how dinner is coming along. I hope Reborn won't be mad that we have another person now."
"Reborn isn't here," Hayato supplied as the two adults stood and began to make their way out. "I sent him on a mission in South America."
"Oh, then that's good. Thank you, Hayato. You're the best," The brunette smiled and the other sputtered something along the lines of 'I'm not as good as the Tenth!' before the two disappeared out the door. Giotto and G. exchanged glances and began to laugh a moment later.
"Reminds you of us, doesn't it?" Giotto grinned, and the redhead was inclined to agree.
"It certainly does."
Dinner for the four of them (apparently Hayato had sent every guardian on a mission and both reincarnations believed he really wanted alone time with Tsuna) was quite peaceful as the they shared stories of their lives. Giotto talked about the antics of the various guardians, from Lambo's attempts to kill Reborn to Hayato's frequent death threats whenever he didn't get enough sleep. Tsuna mentioned a few embarrassing things about Giotto, such as when he got lost and ended up in the training room with Hibari and had to be saved before he was completely beaten up. G. in turn talked about his job at Asari's, the archery club, and his friendship with Cozart.
"Gokudera, you never said Cozart was in Japan, too," Giotto pouted at the silverette.
"Sorry, he wasn't there when I was," Hayato ducked his head in minor embarrassment.
"Cozart is a chore and a half, but he was the first person I really befriended after Asari. I wasn't really close to anyone until those two came along," G. said, putting a piece of chicken in his mouth. He had to say that he really did miss Italian cuisine and the chefs really knew how to make it flawlessly.
"I'm glad they are doing well. Tsuna told me that Alaude is in Germany and should be fourteen now I think, Knuckle is about twenty-two and in America, and Lampo is seven and in France," Giotto said with a bright smile.
"So all that's left...would be Daemon," G. scowled. He never could like the guy since his betrayal, and even more so when he was the reason Giotto left him.
"Ah, about that," Tsuna flushed when the attention turned to him, "Hayato and I believe that he won't be reincarnated for a long while."
"Why is that?" Giotto furrowed his eyebrows.
"You wouldn't have known even when you're spirits were in the ring," Tsuna continued, "Daemon had tried to turn the current Shimon famiglia against us, a few years ago, and he finally passed away after transferring from vessel to vessel for years when I defeated him."
"Bastard," G. growled, earning a look of reprimand for the language.
"Well, its done with and I think Daemon did regret doing all of it in the end," Tsuna placated. "I can't really hold it against him."
"The Tenth is always so forgiving..." Gokudera muttered, looking annoyed. G. figured the other was more irritated at himself than Tsuna's forgiveness, probably for some reason the redhead couldn't understand. From what he could see, and what he remembered from his time in the ring, the silverette had some serious self-esteem issues.
"Well," Giotto smiled, "as long as he reflected on his actions, I have to agree. Anyway, G., tell me more about your archery club."
"Alright, alright," G. scratched his cheek, "It was during my first year that Cozart roped me into some competition..."
It was during G.'s fifth day in Italy when Vongola was attacked out of the blue. A random famiglia wanted revenge for something or rather, and managed to find the headquarters. He was grabbed by both Tsuna and Hayato along with Giotto and they were dumped in a hidden room probably meant for escape. G. didn't remember the room being in the original architecture so it had to have been added later. Tsuna and Hayato, along with Reborn who returned a day ago, were the only guardians present. Gokudera left a gun in the redhead's possession secretly, even though both were on strict orders not to leave until the intruders were dealt with. They both protested, but Tsuna shot them a look of finality ("People finding out you guys are here would spell trouble later on. Stay put." Gokudera warned fiercely in addition to the look) so they stayed in the small hidden room. They heard the muffled sounds of the explosions and shouts. Gun shots and the sounds of fighting reminded them of their own time.
They didn't know if it was hours or minutes when the door finally opened. Just in case, G. aimed his gun, putting a protective arm around Giotto. It turned out to just be Tsuna. He was wearing gloves that looked like Giotto's when he was Primo, and had minor cuts and burns on his face and suit. He gave them a warm smile and said,
"Good thing you two are okay."
"Idiot, what about yourself?" Giotto shouted in exasperation and G. figured this wasn't the first time this happened.
"I'm fine, nothing major. Most of the damage occurred to the walls, but nothing is horribly broken since all the fighting happened outside." Tsuna assured and stepped aside to let them out. The two did, watching as the hidden door closed and blended in with the walls once more.
"Is everyone okay?" The redhead asked.
"Just cuts and bruises. Most of the damage happened to the enemies, thanks to Reborn and Hayato having a field day. Hibari is currently on his way back and he'll be interrogating our assailants within a few hours." Tsuna informed as they headed down the halls to the infirmary. When they arrived, they found a doctor attending to a cut on Hayato's forehead, who looked displeased about the treatment. G. didn't know him personally, but according to Giotto, his name was Shamal.
"There, stupid brat," Shamal said, "now stop coming to me. I told you I don't treat men."
"Shut up, you stupid pervert," Hayato frowned, glancing at his left bicep, currently covered in white bandages. Other than that, he didn't seem to have any injuries aside from the one on his face. The silverette turned to Tsuna, "Are you okay, Tenth?"
"Yes, Hayato, thank you," Tsuna smiled. G. walked up to his look alike and handed back the gun in his possession.
"Thanks for this," He spoke with a small thankful nod.
"Hmm," Hayato hummed and placed the gun into a holster inside his jacket. Silence resumed once Shamal finally left, fed up with 'all the men around' until Tsuna stated, out of the blue,
"I'm not entirely sure you two should stay here."
"What?" Giotto questioned with his eyes wide. "Why?"
"Its a little too dangerous. I'm worried one day someone will come and we won't get to you."
"We can protect ourselves, you know?" G. frowned.
"I'm sure, but I also think you two deserve a normal, mafia free life. You've lived through this once; twice is too many." Tsuna gave them a serious look.
"But Tsuna-"
"I'm going to give this more thought, and you two should as well. Perhaps you two should head to Japan, yes?" The brunette cut off Giotto, and headed out the door. Hayato blinked, surprised, before following after him in a hurry. Giotto and G. both glanced at each other. It was a lot to think about.
In the end, they decided together to go back to Japan. G. had to return for college, and he did not want to leave Asari and Cozart behind in his life. He didn't want Giotto left behind in Italy, and a long discussion led to their agreement to go back to Japan. Unsurprisingly, when they told Tsuna, he agreed whole-heartedly (he only smiled, but it said enough). So, Gokudera purchased another plane ticket for the return flight G. had originally gotten a ticket for so they could head back in a few days.
Those days came and went in the blink of an eye, and G., along with his blond, were escorted to the airport by Tsuna and Hayato.
"We'll meet up with you two if we're ever back in Japan," Tsuna smiled warmly and handed Giotto a small card, "I'm sure you have it memorized by now, but if you ever need us for anything important, then we'll come to you guys in a heartbeat."
"And..." Hayato sighed, "if anything completely terrible happens in Japan, you guys are welcome to come back at any time."
"Oh, Hayato, that's nice of you," Tsuna teased lightly, smiling further when his right hand man blushed.
"Thank you," G. sincerely said, "both of you."
"I'll miss you guys," Giotto smiled and hugged both of the adults, earning a 'tch' from an embarrassed silverette and a hug from the brunette. "Gokudera, try not to kill Lambo."
"No promises." was the immediate retort.
"Tsuna, try not to overwork yourself and stop Gokudera from working until four in the morning."
"I wonder who's really looking after who," Tsuna laughed, "I'll try. Hayato's stubborn. You two have a safe flight."
"Bye," G. nodded and watched as Giotto hugged both once more. He half-smiled and waited for the blond to catch up with him when he began to walk away. Giotto smiled, grabbing the redhead's hand with his own.
"Off to Japan, then."
G. glanced to the side, watching the blond look up at Asari's ramen shop. The blond looked oddly nervous, like he would be meeting G.'s parents or something. G. smirked and shook his head at the other. He intertwined their hands, waiting for Giotto to look back at him.
"Come on, I still have to treat you, don't I?" G. grinned. Giotto's eyes widened slightly, but soon smiled and said,
"Yeah, okay." G. nodded, squeezing his beloved's hand, and entered the shop, calling,
"I'm home!"
Fin.
Lord, that was so long. So many words, so many things. I'm almost tempted to turn this story idea into a full blown multi-chapter story because there isn't enough fluff here. Hmm...gears are turning. I added more 5927 than originally intended, but I wanted to use it to remind Giotto of him and G.'s relationship as a key factor to regaining his memories.
Fun Fact: I was tempted at first to have Cozart with his memories too (during the scene when G.'s in the hospital after collapsing the second time), and I started to write it that way, but then I rethought about it and edited it so he didn't.
A penny for your review?